Tenth Grade Bleeds (12 page)

Eddie burst back out the door. The students in the room, each of whom had donned a pair of cheap plastic fangs, laughed loudly at Eddie's abrupt exit. Eddie, realizing he'd been had, shoved Henry as hard as he could. Henry barely moved. Eddie looked furious. “What makes you so loyal to him? You know what he is!”

Henry set his jaw and tightened his muscles—he'd never liked being shoved. “Yeah, he's a monster. Just like Dracula and Frankenstein. Just like the boogeyman in your closet, Eddie.”

Eddie lowered his voice to a growl, but didn't retreat. If anything, he moved closer until he was right in Henry's face. “Why are you protecting him?”

Henry cracked his knuckles, dropping all of the joking tone from his voice. “He bit me when we were eight—we bonded.”

Eddie paused, then tilted his head and smiled. “So what? Now you're some kind of vampire's pet?”

Henry's shoulders lowered slightly. For a moment Vlad thought that Henry was about to walk away, that he was going to let Eddie win. But then Henry grabbed two handfuls of Eddie's shirt and slammed him into the lockers. “Listen to me very carefully, you little speck. Vlad isn't the dangerous one here. I am. And unless you back off and stop harassing my friend, you're gonna find out just how dangerous I can be. You got me?”

Henry pulled him away from the lockers and slammed him against them again. When he spoke, it was more of a growl than actual words. “I'm nobody's pet. Now get lost before you make me angry.”

After Eddie disappeared out the front doors with wide, terrified eyes darting back to Henry with every step he took, Vlad gave Henry's shoulder a squeeze. “Dude, that was awesome. Thank—”

Henry shook him off. “Yeah, don't mention it. Just leave me alone.”

V
LAD BUTTONED THE BOTTOM BUTTON on his black vest and regarded his reflection in the mirror. While Nelly had fought him tooth and nail on wearing skinny black pants, a white dress shirt with black pinstripes, a black vest, a black jacket, and tennis shoes adorned with tiny skulls to the Snow Ball, Vlad thought even she would agree that he looked pretty good. He slipped his jacket on and brushed his black hair from his dark eyes. He was cloaked in shadows from head to toe. This was going to be a night to remember.

Downstairs, the doorbell rang out in an ominous tone. Moments later, there was a soft knock on Vlad's door. Vlad checked his jacket pocket for ChapStick and said, “Come in.”

Henry opened the door, and Vlad's smile deflated. He was dressed in the same outfit he'd worn to school that day.

Unwilling to entertain the notion that his best friend was ditching him again, Vlad said, “Dude, you do know that this is a semiformal dance, don't you? Snelgrove will never let you in wearing that.”

“ That's okay.” Henry cleared his throat against his fist, then took a deep breath, as if whatever he was about to say required an enormous bout of bravery. “I'm not going.”

Vlad stiffened—it wasn't like Henry to miss a dance, let alone this dance, and they'd been talking about going as recently as last week, the day he stood up to Eddie, the day Henry had stormed out in a huff. The Snow Ball was a huge deal to everyone—from the goths to the jocks. It was just about the only time the two groups could mingle in the same room without any snide comments being tossed around. Vlad couldn't imagine Henry missing out. “What about Kylie McAuliffe?”

Henry shrugged vacantly. “I called her a couple of hours ago and canceled.”

Vlad just about choked. “Why?”

Henry stood there for a long time, despondent. He seemed to be bursting with things to say, but holding them in, as if he didn't want to taint Vlad's mood with his own. Finally he sighed and dropped his gaze to the ground. “It's just a stupid dance, Vlad.”

Vlad tightened his jaw, resisting the temptation to read Henry's mind. “Is it because of Melissa?”

Henry shoved his hands in his front pockets, his eyes still on the ground. Finally, in a gravelly tone, he said, “If you really wanna know, it's because of you.”

Vlad blinked. He wasn't entirely certain he'd heard Henry right. He squeaked out, “Me?”

Then Henry's hands were out of his pockets, his eyes blazing, his face red. “I'm so sick of it, Vlad!” he yelled. “You think you're so special because you can float through midair and read people's minds. You think you're so great because you can order me around and I have no say at all. I'm sick of it! I'm sick of you!”

Vlad was shocked into complete silence. Every word slashed through his heart like a knife, until his insides were nothing more than a pile of goo. It hurt to hear these things—but it hurt a thousand times more to hear them from Henry.

Though it pained him to do so, Vlad took in a slow, deep breath, licked his dry lips, and forced his mouth to form words. “For one, I don't think I'm all that special. Most of the time, my abilities just make me out to be some kind of freak. And since when do I order you around?”

“At lunch a few weeks ago. And there were other times.” Henry's eyes were red and shining, as if he were fighting back frustrated tears. “I don't get a choice. You made me your drudge and didn't even ask me, didn't even tell me what it would mean.”

Vlad's own eyes filled with tears, and he shook his head, hoping the action would clear his vision. “How could I have told you? I didn't know, Henry! Not until Otis told me two years ago. This is nuts. You're acting like a crazy person.”

Henry met his gaze. His words were crisp, cold. “I'm tired of being your slave. I want out.”

Vlad felt as if every ounce of air had been sucked out of his lungs, and he nearly staggered in an effort to catch his breath. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. It was like his best friend had been replaced by one of the pod people. He shook his head, confounded. “You . . . you really don't want to be my drudge anymore?”

Henry didn't reply. Vlad fought the urge to weep uncontrollably and instead pushed his anguish deep down, where he could pretend it didn't exist. He didn't speak for a very long time.

Then finally, once his heart had completed its explosion, throwing shards of itself up against the walls of his rib cage, he choked out, “I read something about releasing a drudge in the
Compendium of Conscientia.
If you're serious—”

Henry's glare said that he was.

“—I'll brush up on the details.”

Henry stood there silently. Vlad was beginning to wonder if he'd ever speak again, when he blurted out, “Do it soon.”

Something inside Vlad snapped, and his anguish turned to fury. “If I didn't have a dance to go to with my girlfriend, I'd do it right now!”

“Good!”

“Fine!”

Henry stepped out of the room and slammed the door. Vlad could hear him as he stomped down the stairs and banged the front door shut. Tears were streaking Vlad's face when another soft knock came at his door. Not meaning to, he snapped, “What now?”

Nelly cracked the door open and peered at him with a look of pity that made Vlad's tears fall faster. She rarely came to his room, so he knew she'd overheard at least part of the argument. “Henry seemed pretty upset when he left,” she said softly. “What happened between you two?”

Vlad wiped his tears with the back of his hand. When he spoke, his voice shook with exasperation. “Have you ever thought you knew somebody better than anyone and then they just changed out of the blue into somebody else entirely?”

Nelly slipped inside and sat on his bed, nodding with understanding. “Your mother, actually.”

Vlad flashed her a curious glance and sank down onto the mattress beside her. “Really? What happened?”

Nelly sighed, as if the memory was almost too much to bear. “One day we were sharing all our secrets and spending all sorts of time together. The next day she needed time alone and couldn't tell me what she was doing when she was away. It was a horrid period in our friendship. We argued a lot. I shed more than a few tears, convinced I'd lost my best friend forever.”

“But you made up, right?”

Nelly smiled, but her smile was tainted with a strange sadness that Vlad wasn't sure he would ever understand. “Eventually. One day, Mellina came to visit me, and she brought with her the man of her dreams—that's what she called your father, the man of her dreams. Once she and Tomas explained the situation—that he was not human, and that they were expecting a child—I understood her reasons for secrecy. Everything was fine after that, and our friendship was as close as ever.”

She met his eyes, her gaze aching with concern for him. “My point is, Vladimir, that there is almost always a reason for people to act as Henry is acting. Your job as his friend is to be kind, to be available when he needs for you to be, and to understand, no matter what those reasons may be. That's what a good friend does.”

Vlad chewed his bottom lip for a moment. “What if he told me the reason, and now he wants me to do something for him that I don't want to do? Only . . . the reason I don't want to do it is because I'm scared we won't be friends anymore after that.”

Nelly paused notably before narrowing her eyes in suspicion. “Is whatever he's asking you to do illegal?”

“Nope. Nothing like that.”

“Just checking.” She smiled, this time more naturally. At least her bloodsucking ward wasn't a criminal. “Well, I suppose you'll just have to decide if Henry's needs, and his happiness, are important enough to you that you can take that risk.”

It seemed simple enough. But applying that logic to actual actions seemed more daunting to Vlad than hang gliding in a blizzard.

Nelly patted his hand. “But the most important thing that you need to do right now, Vladimir, is put this out of your mind and have fun at the dance. Are you ready to go?”

Vlad sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I guess so.”

Nelly gave his hand a squeeze and stood up to leave his room. She stopped at the door just long enough to tell him, “By the way, you look very handsome.”

Alone once again, Vlad adjusted the signet ring on his pinkie, and tried to put his argument with Henry in the back of his mind. He took a deep breath and left his room, heading downstairs. He had a dance to get to.

Nelly had insisted on driving Vlad and Meredith to the dance—partly, Vlad thought, to lessen his and his girlfriend's alone time. They had just backed out of the driveway on their way to Meredith's house when Nelly started in. “If you get hungry, just give me a call. I can always stop by with a few blood bags. Better safe than sorry, you know.”

Vlad rolled his eyes. Nelly was seriously blowing things out of proportion. It wasn't like Vlad had tried to bite Meredith intentionally or anything. Besides, it had only happened once and not recently. Just that one time, after the Halloween party, and that teensy little moment in the broom closet. So, twice. It was no big deal, really. Looking back, Vlad could almost forget the horror of that moment when he realized he'd been poised to snack on the girl of his dreams. Almost.

They came to a stop in front of Meredith's house. Vlad opened his door and started to get out, but Nelly stopped him. “Hey, you might need this.”

She handed him a clear plastic container. Inside was a wrist corsage of white roses and black feathers. Vlad had completely forgotten about flowers. “You picked this out?”

She nodded.

“Good choice. Thanks, Nelly.”

Nelly smiled, and Vlad closed the door behind him, making his way up the icy sidewalk to the front porch of Meredith's home. He rang the bell, and a large shadow appeared on the other side of the door. The door opened to reveal Meredith's father. He had the broadest shoulders that Vlad had ever seen. He glared at Vlad and kept his voice low. “No funny business, and have her home by eleven. You hear me?”

Meredith's sweet voice lilted from within. “Daddy, let Vlad in. It's cold out there.”

Meredith's mother, a thin woman with warm brown eyes and strawberry blonde hair, appeared by Mr. Brookstone's side. “Really, Harold, let the boy in.”

She smiled at Vlad as her husband retreated back into the house. “Don't mind him, Vlad. He's a big teddy bear. Come on in. Oh, what a lovely corsage!”

Vlad was quite certain Mr. Brookstone was a bear of some sort—maybe a grizzly or a Kodiak—but definitely not a teddy. And his diet absolutely consisted of boys that dated his daughter. He moved inside and closed the door, and when Meredith drifted down the stairs, Vlad's heart choked him into speechlessness.

She wore a long, white satin gown, with embroidered black snowflakes adorning the bodice. In several spots, the snowflakes seemed to cascade down her dress. Her chocolate hair was in ringlets, and pinned up so that the curls barely brushed her shoulders. She looked more beautiful than any girl Vlad had ever seen.

As she left the bottom step, Vlad found his voice. Taking a step forward, he said in hushed awe, “Meredith . . . you look amazing.”

Behind him, the bear growled.

Mrs. Brookstone smacked her husband gently on the arm and picked up her camera. “Come on, you two; let's get some pictures so you can be off to the dance.”

Vlad opened the corsage box and slipped the corsage on to Meredith's wrist. As he did so, he noticed the tiny snowflakes painted on her fingernails. Meredith gasped. “Oh Vlad, it's perfect!”

Vlad beamed. “I picked it out just for you.”

She leaned forward, like she was going to kiss him on the cheek, and then faltered, as if remembering her boyfriend-eating father was in the room. Vlad smiled gratefully.